


I Only Eat Things That Are Already Dead

by Rhys (rhyssj)



Category: NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-02-21
Updated: 2004-02-21
Packaged: 2019-04-20 08:14:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14256741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhyssj/pseuds/Rhys
Summary: Chris does Japan.





	I Only Eat Things That Are Already Dead

**Author's Note:**

> A sesa story, written for maggie.

By the time Chris had been awake for 36 hours, he was pretty sure he’d gone crazy. Worse, he was pretty sure he was in love with Justin, which was such a surprise. When Chris looked at Justin, with the harsh flourescent lights being filtered through the fuzz of his curls, it was like he was glowing. _Glowing_ with his secret love for Chris, who totally felt the same way. 

"Hey, C," Chris said in the middle of one of the breaks when the opportunity for one-on-one discussion presented itself. Joey had run off to the bathroom, knees pinched together, with Lance and Justin following hot on his heels. Chris needed someone to verify Justin’s hotness before he went ahead full-throttle. Just because a million teenage girls thought so wasn’t proof. 

"I’m not talking to you," JC said, sipping coffee out of a Styrofoam cup. It was his third in the last twenty minutes, but his eyes remained mere slivers on his face. "Man, normally I wouldn’t complain, but I’ve had no sleep, and you’re hurting my feelings. Could you pick on J?" 

Chris blanched. "How about Joey?" 

"Or Lance," JC said. "Anybody but me, man. I’ve done nothing ..." 

" _Nothing_ ," Chris mimicked. It was out before he could stop himself. Chris slapped his hands over his mouth, fluttering his eyelashes apologetically, but JC’s mouth was all twisted up like the bow on a Christmas present. Seeing that, Chris simply had to finish mocking. It was no good leaving the whole thing half-mocked. " _What makes us so different from them? Nothing_." 

"Man, I’m so back to not talking to you." 

"Fine," Chris said. "I only mock because I love." 

JC snorted. 

~~~ 

Japan, in Chris’s dreams, had been akin to heaven, filled with oceans of easily accessible hentai and Ramen noodles that came out of vending machines. So far, in the twelve hours since Chris had been there, not including the fourteen horrifying hours on that rocket ship of evil they called an airplane, Japan had consisted of one very white, very hot room and a small bathroom. 

Then, to make matters worse, the future love of his life had snapped at him, levelling his dreamy blue eyes at Chris and growling "will you let me speak" meanly. Chris thought that was completely unwarranted since Justin _always_ cut JC off. In retaliation, Chris had accidentally kicked Joey in the back while aiming for Justin, and now only Lance was still talking to him. Well, hypothetically. Chris was pretty sure Lance had been asleep for the last fifteen minutes. 

When it finally ended, Chris barely even noticed. They were ushered out of the very white, very hot room, and nobody was speaking his language, and even if they were, Chris doubted he could understand it. At least, in Europe, he’d been allowed to nap. Japan sucked. 

Chris woke up with a start, unable to remember when he’d even fallen asleep. For a second, he thought he was on the floor, but then he remembered the wacky Japanese and their sleeping habits. Still, the floor was pretty fucking close, and Joey was on the thin mattress with him, snoring. Joey still had his shoes on. So did Chris for that matter. Chris felt he had two possible courses of action: be annoying and loudly wake up a blissfully sleeping Joey or ignore his childish whims and go back to sleep. Against his better judgement, Chris took the latter road. 

Later, when some asshole started banging on the door, Chris nearly had a heart attack. It was way too fucking early, and Joey was still snoring in his ear, and Chris had been dreaming about a bowl of steaming hot ramen noodles that had tried to strangle him at JC’s evil command. 

Chris stomped to the door and threw it open. "What?" 

"Am I interrupting something?" Justin asked, craning his neck to see. Unfortunately, Chris knew what was there: a hundred and ninety pounds of Joey Fatone, buried to the hair by the covers. Justin raised an eyebrow then grinned. "I’m just messing with ya. Lance and I ended up dragging your asses up to Joey’s room, but then you went down with him, and we said fuck it." 

"Thank god," Chris said, but for a myriad of complicated reasons. Refreshed and no longer hallucinating Justin’s ethereal glow, Chris was still in love with him, and Justin still looked good. Good enough to fuck, Chris thought, and make sweet, sweet love to all night long. 

Justin grinned. "Joey’s not your type, huh?" 

Abruptly, Chris felt himself blush to the roots and started fanning himself, like he’d suddenly come down with the bubonic plague or something. Justin lifted an eyebrow, and Chris stopped any line of interrogation before it started by giving Justin a quick, vicious purple-nurple. 

"Ow! Fuck!" Justin shouted, jumping back and rubbing his chest. "What the hell, Chris?" 

"That’s for yesterday," Chris said, trying to ignore the glorious tingle in his finger. 

"Sheesh. A guy comes to ask his best dude if he’s interested in some unconventional Japanese breakfast, and he gets his fucking nipple twisted off." Justin lifted up his sweatshirt, examining the goods, and Chris found himself staring, completely against his will. It looked fine, Chris thought, it looked like the greatest nipple ever born. "So, what? No to food then?" 

Chris shrugged. "I dunno. You buying?" 

"Cheap ass motherfucker," Justin said, which Chris knew was Justin-ese for "yes, I am." 

~~~ 

It wasn’t quite the romantic date Chris had hoped for, but seeing as Justin didn’t know that his future involved their unholy union in love and hot sex, Chris wasn’t too put out. With Big Mike, Randy and Todd following them like nervous mothers, it totally killed the mood anyway as they stood at the vending machine, trying to find something Chris would actually eat. 

"I only eat things that are already dead," Chris announced, "and nothing slimy." 

"How about crab?" Justin asked, his big manly hands spread on the glass. 

Those big manly hands would look great spread on me, Chris thought dreamily, thinking of all the things he wanted them to do. A handjob, for starters, and two of those long fingers would feel great in his ass, and oh, Chris could suck on them, too! Before, of course, because ew. 

"Chris, Chris," Justin was saying, all irritated and pissed and hot as ever-loving fuck. "Listen, you fool, we have about two minutes before the swarm realises we’ve left the hotel, and this is probably the only meal you’re going to have all day. How do you feel about crab?" 

Chris wrinkled up his nose. "Nothing from the ocean either." 

"How about cucumbers?" 

Chris thought about cucumbers for a moment then, whoa, hello huge phallic symbol. Obviously, Justin was trying to subconsciously encourage Chris to eat _his_ cucumber, and before Chris could stop himself, he was nodding like a zombie after brains. "I like cucumbers a lot." 

"A lot," Justin echoed, crooking his fingers into quotes. 

"I fucking love you," Chris blurted out, immediately mortified, but Justin only laughed, like he hadn’t really heard it. Thank fucking god, Chris thought. He hadn’t verified Justin’s superior hotness yet, even though it seemed a little futile. Chris was as good as gone already. 

~~~ 

The food venture turned out to be a bust when the vending machine ate Justin’s yen. The two of them kicking and shaking the contraption, demanding to be fed, got them nowhere. Defeated, they coerced Todd into getting them some sushi from the grocery store down the street, the deli section whole-heartedly recommended by the man at the front desk, who had yelled at them for beating on his vending machine. The only request Chris had was for cucumbers. 

They brought the sushi back to Justin’s room, sitting at the small table by the window. Chris was about ready to get to the good stuff, i.e. mad hot sex with a mad hot guy, but the second opinion was vital. Chris couldn’t trust his own brain. It just loved doing dumb shit sometimes. 

"Randy says, like, two days from now, he can probably get us out to one of the manga shops nearby." Justin picked up a blob of wasabi with his chopstick and dabbed it onto the sushi. Before bringing a piece of sushi to his mouth, Justin dipped it in soy sauce, too. Awed, Chris found himself staring at Justin’s chopstick prowess. Chris still hadn’t progressed from tapping his chopsticks together like drumsticks. "It’ll probably be at, like, midnight, but it can be done." 

"Oh, goody," Chris said, using one of his chopsticks to push his piece of sushi around the container it came in, leaving a damp trail in its wake like a snail. Chris’s stomach rumbled. Daintily, he sniffed at the sushi again then stabbed it with his chopstick. "It has hentai?" 

"Well, I didn’t ask Randy _that_ , but he said they had videos and seemed, like, to be _the_ manga shop in the area, so." Justin took another bite of his sushi, the piece still pinched between his chopsticks. How the hell did he _do_ that? "We can always sneak out, if you can’t find any." 

Chris snorted. "Oh, that’ll be great when we get stuck in a phone booth, surrounded by underage girls, and we have to explain to the riot police that I only wanted authentic cartoon porn." 

Justin grinned, full and bright and gorgeous, and Chris mirrored it less handsomely. They were still smiling at each other when Lance and Joey barged in, Lance’s head locked under Joey’s arm. They plopped down into a heap, Lance’s mouth right by Joey’s crotch and looking as happy as Chris would have if it was Justin’s groin he’d suddenly been thrust into head-first. 

"Sushi for breakfast?" Lance smacked his lips hungrily. "And you didn’t invite us?" 

Gingerly, Chris pulled his container away from Lance’s covetous ogling. "Hey, you have your own best friend, Bass. Just because mine is thoughtful, and yours is a lout who _snores_ -" 

Joey rolled his eyes. 

"- doesn’t mean you have to eat my sushi with your freaky peepers." 

Someday, Chris thought as they dissolved into riotous laughter, he needed to learn how to keep his big fat fucking mouth shut for once. That day, of course, was never going to come. 

~~~ 

Promo wasn’t good for a guy like Chris. His attention span had been ruined by years of television, and not even good television. Bad, mind-rotting television that had decayed Chris’s brain right out of his head. He should have been watching PBS and A&E instead of TNN and the TBS Superstation. Even if her tits were nice, there was no cultural good in Pamela Anderson, and Chris had to remember that. In truth, Chris blamed her for the depth of his boredom. 

"Fuck off, dickhead," Joey said after Chris blew a gust of hot air in his ear with a straw, which was normally hilarious, but JC, his best and most willing audience, still wasn’t talking to him, and Justin was too busy trying to convince the hosts, whose command of the English language was a bit suspect, that Nsync wasn’t crap, and Lance was sitting too far away to be fun. 

At the fifth commercial break, Chris leaned over and dodged Joey’s open hand, holding up his own in surrender. 

"Hey, man. I come in peace. I just gotta ask you something important." Joey narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but he didn’t back away when Chris leaned in and cupped his palms around Joey’s ear, whispering, "what do you think about Justin?" 

"Justin who?" Joey said, loud enough that the Justin in question glanced over. 

"Justin Timberlake, you fuck," Chris hissed, purposely spitting into Joey’s ear, which didn’t garner more than a slight twitch. What bothered Joey was entirely unpredictable. "And shh, all right? This is top secret shit. Just answer, Fatone. Don’t make me kick your lazy ass." 

"I don’t know what you want me to say, man." Joey shifted his eyes in Chris’s direction, remaining perfectly still otherwise, Chris’s hands still cupped around his ear. "I like him a lot?" 

Chris made sure to spit extra hard when he spoke. "Do you like him enough to _fuck_ _him_?" 

"Oh my god!" Joey shouted then clapped his hands over his mouth when everybody in Japan looked over to see what they were gossiping about. "Sorry, sorry," he hissed, "but man, are you serious? What the hell is wrong with you? And what happened to your _girlfriend_ , Chris?" 

Chris shrugged. "She dumped me for being annoying." 

Joey’s eyebrows lifted. "Shit, man. Again?" 

"Jeez, rub salt in the wound, why dontcha? _Jerk_." 

Chris punched Joey in the arm then sat back, disappointed he hadn’t even got an answer. Chris had purposely asked Joey because Joey thought anybody above the age of consent was hot. Now he’d have to ask those picky bastards JC and Lance, who would probably talk Chris out of it. 

~~~ 

By nine, Chris was ready to chew off his own foot for entertainment, so when they rolled out a cart of colourful food, Chris mentally thanked the gods for saving his career and his toes. Chris was as hungry as he was bored, and if he didn’t get sugar soon he was going to die anyway. 

It was a game, Chris vaguely understood as they blindfolded him. Nervousness started crawling up from Chris’s balls when he found out JC was going to be feeding him, after days of constant mocking, which served JC right for being so mockable in the first place. Even worse than that, JC was going to be feeding him after Chris drew a curly moustache on JC’s face with pink lipstick as he carelessly slept on the plane and then nobody had actually _told_ JC. It had been fifteen minutes, tops, that JC had walked around like that, but he’d still been pretty angry. 

Chris clenched his jaw shut, petulantly pursing his lips, but someone pinched his nose. He valiantly stuck to his guns until, with one huge traitorous gasp of air, something sweet and delicious was shoved into his mouth. Curiously, Chris chewed. It tasted like chocolate, for real. 

Between the encouraging roar of the audience and the soft murmur of Justin’s sexy hot voice in his ear listing off everything he was eating, from plain old Ramen noodles to the yummy chocolate thing that Justin had called a Melty Kiss, Chris was lulled into a false sense of security. Lulled, Chris hastened to add, by his very best friends, the only guys he trusted in the _world_. 

When Justin said "squid" it was a complete reflex to open his mouth, roll out his tongue and pray to fucking god that the squid knew where to go before he puked on live Japanese television. As it was, bile rose in his throat, and before he could stop himself, he dragged his tongue across the first body he grabbed, getting a mouthful of lint and Justin’s surprised, "yuck!" 

They were, Chris decided grimly as Justin pulled off his blindfold, getting a divorce. 

~~~ 

It was, unfortunately, impossible for Chris to stay mad at Justin for any length of time. It was like asking the sun not to rise in the morning after a night of too much sleep-depriving sex, a theory Chris was looking forward to testing in the near future. So when Justin popped by his room long after they both should have been in bed like good boys, Chris couldn’t turn him away. 

"The squid wasn’t my idea," Justin said, holding out a box from someplace called Mr. Donuts, which sounded all right, but who really knew if Japanese donuts were edible? They were probably gross and squid-flavoured. Just the thought made Chris shudder deep in his bones. 

"Oh, fine. I accept your peace offering," Chris said, honestly. No revenge this time. 

Justin pushed his way into Chris’s room then dropped down onto his mattress, a donut already stuffed into his mouth. It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, Justin with his face full of pastry, chewing with his mouth open, but Chris couldn’t fight his heart, even if it was an idiot. 

"You didn’t have to lick me though," Justin said, sucking his fingertips into his mouth, working the chocolate glaze off his skin. That pink, beautiful, talented tongue, which would look so good working between Chris’s leg, circled around the head of Chris’s cock, licking him dry. 

Chris nearly came in his pants, which Justin, great friend that he was, noticed, too. 

"Hey," Justin said, putting a hand on Chris’s knee and leaning in so close that Chris could smell the lame aftershave Justin used while pretending he actually needed to shave. Do not come, Chris firmly told his cock. "Are you all right? You look like you’re about to have a seizure." 

"Do you want to have sex with me?" Chris blurted out, loud and fast, and wasn’t too surprised when Justin sat back on the box of donuts, eyes wide. Chris slapped his palm to his forehead and tried to think of something hilariously witty to make this better, but there was nothing, absolutely nothing. 

Finally, after Chris had helped him wipe the donuts off his ass, Justin asked, "are you serious?" 

And Chris, the big wimpy chicken, replied with a big wimpy, "ha, _no_." 

~~~ 

Waking up didn’t improve Chris’s outlook on the whole situation. He and his brain had a very serious conversation over it in the high-tech Japanese shower, which Chris could only figure out how to turn on to spray bitterly cold water. It wasn’t fair, Chris argued, to change its mind last minute. It hadn’t changed its mind, his brain hissed back as he lathered, he had wussed out. 

"Okay," Chris said to the wimp in the mirror, who stared back stupidly, feigning complete innocence, "maybe falling in love with Justin wasn’t your smartest move, but you did it, and you can’t undo it. Maybe, you can give Dani a call and beg her to take you back, but she probably won’t. You’re just too annoying and stupid. Did I mention stupid? Because you are." 

With a sigh, Chris dropped his towel and tried to find something respectable to wear. The hall was empty save for Big Mike, who nodded at him then opened the emergency exit door. Chris scooted under his arm then took his sweet ass time descending the stairway. Big surprise, Lance was the only one on time, sitting at the very bottom. Chris slipped down next to him. 

"Morning," Chris said congenially. 

Lance nodded wearily then yawned, scrubbing his fingers through his spiky hair. 

Chris sighed deeply and when Lance gave no response, sighed again, even louder. He waited a few seconds then sighed a third time, throwing his shoulders into it. Lance glanced over at him, and Chris made his best sad face, curling out his lower lip and fluttering his eyelashes. 

"Fuck, all right. Whatever is wrong, Chris?" 

Chris ignored Lance’s obvious insincerity, propping his chin up with his fists. "Okay, hypothetical scenario. Say Joey says to you, ‘do you want to have sex with me?’ and then you say to Joey, ‘are you serious?’ and then Joey says, ‘no.’ Say all this happens. What do you think?" 

"I say this is a little too specific for a hypothetical scenario, Chris." 

Chris puffed out his chest, ready to give the biggest sigh of his life, but Lance slapped a hand over his mouth, and Chris deflated like a balloon, whistling out between Lance’s fingers. 

"I say Joey probably wants to sleep with me, but doesn’t want to mess up our friendship. Which is understandable, and something you should have thought about before you did it, and stop that," Lance said, grabbing Chris’s hand as he made gabby blah-blah-blah motions with it. 

"Maybe if I play stupid." At Lance’s pointed look, Chris amended, " _stupider_. Maybe if I play _stupider_ Justin will forget I ever said anything, and I won’t have to ruin the best relationship of my life." Chris sighed one last time for effect, making Lance smile. "But Justin _is_ pretty hot, like, of the mad hot variety, right? Back me up, Bass. Justin is _totally_ swoon worthy." 

Lance grinned and didn’t say anything, holding his hands up in surrender. 

Wise man, Chris thought grimly. 

~~~ 

In all the excitement, Chris had almost forgotten about the promised Manga trip and started hassling Randy the moment Chris saw him, eager like a puppy. Later, Randy assured him, and Chris made him pinky swear. This trip was important. American comics, while Chris loved them, just weren’t as freaky as the Japanese ones. They had the potential to be, of course. There wasn’t a day gone by that Chris didn’t think about having the ability to control his own skin. 

"My cock would be huge," Chris explained during commercial break to Joey, who was more of a DC kind of guy but Chris forgave him for that. "Think about it, Joe. You have all this extra skin just hanging around. I could pad my balls, make them bigger and bouncier and shit. Hell, I could probably grow another cock or two. I could have, like, ten women at once." 

"Ah," Joey said, sounding like the harbinger of bad news, "but what kinda skin are we talking about? I mean, having a girl suck on my arm doesn’t feel half as good as having a girl suck on my dick. Skin’s all fine and dandy, but you need the nerve endings, dude, or it sucks." 

"Jeez, Mr. Science, ruin my hopes and dreams. Thank you ever so much." 

Justin, who had apparently been listening to the conversation, leaned back in his chair. "If you’re controlling your extra dicks properly, those ladies you’re with probably don’t give a shit you’re not fully feeling it. And your real cock is probably plenty happy with all the naked." 

"That’s what I’m saying," Chris said, clasping a hand on Justin’s shoulder and shaking him around a bit, loving how Justin grinned so blindingly bright that it made Chris think having just two dicks would be fine, if one of them belonged to Justin. "See, Joe, this kid’s got brains." 

"You could also fuck yourself with one of your extra dicks," Justin added helpfully. 

"Guess I could," Chris replied slowly. 

Justin twirled a finger through a curl, still leaning back. "That would be pretty hot, right?" 

Swallowing hard, Chris nodded. When the show started up again, he had never been so grateful to have a mic shoved back in his face in his whole life. Chris only hoped the cameras didn’t pick up on his boner. That, Chris thought, would just make his whole fucking life. 

~~~ 

The day passed quickly, even though Chris could barely remember what had happened. That was how promo got after a while: one big blur. They were ushered from place to place, stopping to sign autographs and pose for pictures. When Big Mike picked him up under the arms and dragged him out of the swarm of teenage harpies, Chris found himself in a car with JC. 

"I’m sorry I hurt your feelings," Chris said civilly after a long, awkward silence. 

JC looked over at him. "Are you just saying that, man?" 

"Well, a little," Chris admitted, knowing JC appreciated honesty, "but mostly, I feel bad." 

"Apology accepted. Thank you, Chris," JC said, bowing his head a little in concession. "And I’m sorry about the squid. That was mean and petty of me, and I shouldn’t have done it." 

"My tongue has been defiled, but it will recover. No problem, C. We’re even, okay?" 

They sat around for a bit, twiddling their respective thumbs. Chris lifted his legs and laid them over JC’s knees, stretching out. Those flat beds were not good for his back. JC untied his shoelaces then retied them neatly, double-knotting when Chris made warning noises in his throat. 

"What do you think about Justin?" 

The corners of JC’s eyes crinkled. "I think you and Justin would be very happy together." 

"Jeez." Chris sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the heat crawl slowly across his face, and JC, that fucker, wouldn’t stop grinning. Chris tried to snatch his feet back, but JC grabbed onto his ankles, which was so unfair of him. "That’s totally not what I was asking, C." 

"Whatever you say, man." 

Chris wrinkled up his nose, refusing further incriminating comments. 

~~~ 

Something went awry at the hotel, a gaggle of girls got past security and infiltrated the building, so they were all sent away to their rooms to wait, and wait, and wait. Chris ate his way through the box of granola bars he’d brought along for emergency sustenance in case the food turned out to be too much for him to handle. Assurances of McDonald’s hadn’t calmed him. 

They could have at least paired them up, and then they all could have stumbled into some X-rated rendezvous. Chris with Justin, Joey with Lance, and JC on his own, which JC probably wouldn’t have minded one bit. Chris suspected JC liked having sex with himself a lot more than he liked having sex with other people, anyway. Even thinking about JC’s marathon masturbation sessions made heat rise to the tips of Chris’s ears, the big freak was so fucking loud and vocal. 

Having nothing better to do, Chris decided to go the JC route and stuck his hand down his pants, groping for his cock. With the other, he popped the buttons on his cargoes and rolled down the zipper. Fuck yeah, Chris thought, leaning back and starting to stroke, that’s damn nice. 

Whether it was the rhythmic slap-slap-slap of his hand on his dick or the roar of blood through his ears as he thought about Justin’s sweet mouth on his cock, Chris didn’t know, but he certainly didn’t hear the door open. When he opened his eyes, set to push off his pants entirely, Justin was standing there, leaning against the wall, with a look on his face Chris couldn’t name. 

"Yikes!" Chris grabbed for a pillow, dragging it over his rock hard cock and trying to stop his hips from pushing against the rough cloth. "Jeez, kid. Ever hear about knocking? God, you just about gave me a heart attack." Chris intentionally didn’t mention his raging hard on. 

"I didn’t realise you were so busy." 

Chris caught Justin’s smirk before he swallowed it and grumbled a little, trying to think of the best way to zip up without Justin noticing, but there wasn’t even a slightly pride-saving way. Chris just tossed the pillow, shoved his aching cock back into his shorts and closed his pants. 

"Randy says he can get us out to the shop now, if you’re interested, and we can probably get a bite to eat if you haven’t gorged yourself completely on your emergency stash of granola bars." Justin kicked at the empty box with the toe of his sneakers, his lips slightly twisted up. 

"Okay," Chris said, "just gimme a second to wash my hands, all right?" 

Justin licked his lips. "Sure." 

"Sure," Chris echoed weakly, adjusting his dick when he was sure Justin couldn’t see. 

That little cocktease, Chris thought, as the hot water ran over his hands. 

Chris smiled at the wimp in the mirror and forgave him completely. 

~~~ 

It was later than Chris had thought, long after all the shops had closed, but the ride to the manga store was still slow, inching along on the busy streets of Tokyo, or wherever it was they actually were. Chris _thought_ it was Tokyo, _hoped_ it was Tokyo, or else he was losing his mind. 

Justin appeared to be napping, head lolled back, eyes shut. His fingers were spread on the seat, and Chris rubbed the edge of his thumb over the knuckle on Justin’s pinky. Dark in the shadows, Justin’s eyes blinked open. When he smiled, Chris smiled back, pulling his hand away. 

Chris’s dick was so impossibly hard that nothing seemed to help it shrink. It had been a good many years since Chris had walked around with a hard on. It was okay. Casually, Chris tried to eye Justin, to see if he was sporting the same problem, but it was impossible to tell. 

They were ushered into the closed store with unspoken urgency, locked in with the lights off, the only glow coming in from the outside street lamps. Chris tried to make a beeline to the sexy stuff, but everything was in Japanese. Justin grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him in the right direction, and Chris was off, money burning a hole in his pocket. Well, that and his _dick_. 

"This stuff is kinda weird," Justin said, picking up a comic and flipping through it. 

Chris looked over Justin’s shoulders, grinning. "What, man? The tentacles freak you?" 

"You’d think, but I guess it’s, like, the nature of these tentacles. They’re so ... _mean_." 

"Mean," Chris repeated dryly. 

Justin nodded, picking up another book that was just your run-of-the-mill lesbian school girls, which Chris was going to get if Justin didn’t. "They’re never very nice, I guess is what I’m saying. Nobody ever falls in love with these tentacles. They’re just ... mean old tentacles." 

"I didn’t know you felt so strongly about this." 

"Shut up," Justin said, already laughing. "I’m just saying, man." 

"I’ll penetrate you with my tentacle any day, baby," Chris said, slapping Justin’s ass before he remembered about the low grade sexual tension and his overwhelming desire to do a hell of a lot more than that with Justin. What Chris didn’t expect was Justin pushing his ass back and giving Chris a look that melted him into a puddle of horny, wanton, desperate goo. 

~~~ 

By the time they left the shop, Chris had enough manga and anime, not solely of the hentai variety either, to keep him entertained for the next five years. Justin had to carry some of it, his own tiny little bag of stuff hooked over his arm. The owner had liked Chris a lot more. 

Chris and Justin had to beg together, literally in synch, to get Randy to drop them off a few blocks away from the hotel. It was an annoying tag-team of "please, Randy, please, we’ll love you forever, Randy, please let us out, please, you’re our favourite bodyguard, please," but eventually he gave in with a sigh and unlocked the doors only after they put on very stupid hats. 

"Where do they find these things?" Chris asked, looking up and trying to see what his looked like without taking it off and blowing his secret identity. Justin’s hat was plenty stupid, a big plastic rain one that came down over his eyes and completely covered the expanse of his fro. 

"I think it’s a game," Justin said, casually flicking the brim of Chris’s cap. Chris wanted to imagine something manly on the front of it, even though the fuzz of pink in his peripheral vision convinced him how fucking unlikely that was, especially with Justin grinning like a hyena. 

"How bad is it?" 

"Pretty bad," Justin said, "but hey, you just reminded me what I wanted to get before we leave Japan. They have these Hello Kitty vibrators, right, and I wanted to get one for ..." 

Chris stuck his fingers in his ears. "If you say your mom, I’m never talking to you again." 

"... Trace!" 

Justin dodged Chris’s advance when Chris went in for a poke attack, trying to get at least one good shot, but Justin was a master of avoidance and danced away from him, Justin ducking into the nearest store. Chris followed, figuring he might as well get presents, especially after all gluttony regarding the cartoon porn. Chris grabbed a few notebooks and pens for his sisters. 

Justin peeked over his shoulder. "You are the lamest gift-giver in the world." 

"This is the gift that keeps on giving," Chris said, "and it doesn’t need batteries." 

Justin smirked then ducked into another aisle. Chris brought his junk up the cash register, slapping a bunch of yen down on the counter then waiting for Justin to find the perfect vibrator. Chris didn’t even want to know why Trace wanted one. No way, no how did Chris want to know. 

They browsed a few of the other stores, but Chris’s stomach started rumbling so loud that Justin heard it over the roar of traffic. There was a Ramen shop by the hotel, so they started heading back. It also looked like it was going to rain, which rocked for Justin but sucked for Chris. 

~~~ 

They were soaked by the time they got to Chris’s room, laughing their asses off. They had run out of the growing storm right into the heart of the girlish swarm, hands full of steaming Ramen and a couple of beers Chris had gotten from one of the random vending machines nearby. 

"I swear, my life flashed before my eyes," Justin said. 

Chris plopped down onto the mat, wiping the rain from his brow and trying to open his box of Ramen at the same time. Running from a mob was exhausting. "I tell you, J. That was damn close back there. I could practically smell the pheromones of the chicks ready to bear your children. I was honestly scared, dude, that I was going to be trampled in the resulting riot." 

"I saw signs for you, man." Justin cracked his chopsticks apart then dove into his noodles, shovelling them into his mouth then swallowing loudly. "Don’t give me that modest shit." 

"Well," Chris admitted slowly, "who can blame them, right? I’m so damn hot." 

"Seriously," Justin said, nodding. It was so flippant, so casual, that it didn’t register at first, overshadowed by the more important question of how Chris was going to eat these noodles, but when it hit him like a ton of bricks, Chris looked up quickly and caught Justin’s warm grin. 

There was silence then, light and comfortable. Chris wondered if Justin would mind if he ate with his fingers. There was something intrinsic about chopsticks that Chris was genetically programmed against. They were good for poking, drumming and kindling, and that was about it. 

Chris’s stomach rumbled, and he rubbed at it, embarrassed, when Justin looked up from stuffing his face. Chris stuck the chopsticks under his upper lip, doing his best walrus impression, which actually sucked pretty hard since it wasn’t normally in his repertoire. Justin laughed anyway. 

"I have a present for you," Justin said, reaching into the bag they’d carried the beers in. 

Chris lifted his eyebrows. "Oh yeah?" 

"Yeah," Justin said and held out a plastic fork. "I hope you enjoy it, man." 

Chris grinned, reaching across the table for it. "You know I fucking love you, right?" 

"You keep on saying that, man, and I’m gonna start believing it." 

Chris looked up, noodles hanging out of his mouth and dripping down his chin. Justin’s eyes were the bluest eyes Chris had ever seen, which he thought was a line out of a song, but it worked. Do not wuss out, Chris told himself, holding his ground. Eventually, Justin looked away, a secret smile twisting his mouth, and Chris turned back to his noodles and ate, even though his wide grin made it difficult. He was going to have that plastic fork bronzed. 

~~~ 

Chris thought, maybe, they needed a pretense, something to push them that final step. The hentai, sans tentacles, proved to be just the bridge Chris needed. They sat side by side, looking at the pictures. The heat of Justin’s thigh radiated against Chris’s skin, burning through his pants. It seemed to feed into Chris’s dick, flowing along the length of it, a constant stream. 

Chris nominated Justin to be the page flipper, chin hooked over Justin’s shoulder. A few pages into it, Chris put his hand on Justin’s thigh, on the inside of it, and inched a little closer. More flips to the centre, and Chris started rubbing, imagining the skin underneath, how hot it was. Justin’s breath picked up, his knees opened willingly, his hips gently lifting and falling. 

When the book fluttered to the ground, Chris had never been so grateful in his whole life. 

Justin turned his head, a flush on his cheeks that spoke of his arousal, and Chris nearly came right then, twitching uncontrollably before he caught himself, squeezing his dick in his fist. Justin looked down then up again, a grin blossoming on his face. He elbowed Chris in the side. 

"Having problems?" 

"I have never been this fucking turned on in my life," Chris admitted, giving his cock another firm squeeze, ready to move onto his balls if it didn’t help. Thank god, it did, a bit. Chris closed his eyes, rolling his forehead against Justin’s shoulder, ignoring his laughter. "Which is a little, I dunno, weird, because whoa, I haven’t done much more than grope your thigh." 

"This whole thing is a little weird," Justin said quietly, lifting his eyebrows. Chris bobbed his head solemnly. "I mean, I should probably ask: Dani’s not gonna kick my ass, is she?" 

"Nah, I’m a free agent. She dumped me for being annoying, like, two weeks ago." 

"Imagine that," Justin said wryly. 

"I _know_ ," Chris said, but he was grinning. "I should probably ask the same about Brit." 

"Ninety-nine percent PR, man, you know that. It’s cool with her that we’re trying this." 

"I guess we should just kiss and get it over with, huh? It would suck after all this foreplay to find out that, like, you just aren’t any good with your tongue," Chris said, whistling a sharp breath when Justin poked him right in the nipple with his index finger. "Hey, hey, I’m kidding." 

"You better be," Justin said, parting his lips, wetting them with a slice of pink tongue. 

Chris closed the last few inches between them, keeping his eyes wide as he felt Justin’s breath slip into his mouth. He tasted like Ramen and beer, a piece of Chris’s heaven already. 

~~~ 

They made out for longer than Chris could normally handle. It was worse, in a way, because he was already so turned on. He kept one hand on Justin’s face and the other on his dick, begging it to last a little longer. It wasn’t that Chris didn’t think he could get hard again. It was that Chris was almost psychotic about sexual routines. Once he came, he wanted to sleep, always. 

Plus there was no way that Chris, at the ripe old age of twenty-eight years and ten months, was going to come in his pants. Absolutely no fucking way was Chris going to do anything of the sort. No sir, not even with Justin’s mouth working his better than anyone ever had before. 

Chris decided to push it to the next level, sliding his hand under Justin’s shirt and raking his fingernails lightly down Justin’s back. Justin arched back, mouth parting and eyes closing. Their clothing was still damp from the storm, but it was quick work peeling off Justin’s shirt. 

Chris put his lips immediately to Justin’s chest, sucking and kissing the smooth skin. His nipples, Chris caught between his teeth and bit on gently then licked away the imaginary hurt. Justin shivered and moaned and climbed up on Chris’s lap, fingers buried in Chris’s hair. 

They stayed like that for as long as Chris could handle it, tasting every inch of Justin that he could reach. Chris found himself focussing on the steady pulse of Justin’s heart and the way it throbbed against his lips, quick and strong. When Justin pulled at his shirt, Chris lifted his arms. Flesh on flesh, it was even better. Justin moved deliberately on his erection, rocking his hips. Fuck, Chris thought, sliding his hand down the back of Justin’s jeans, I am not going to last. 

"J," Chris murmured, eyes rolling back in his head, "I seriously gotta get my pants off." 

"Okay," Justin said, and took that as some sort of invitation to take Chris’s pants off himself, fingers clumsily fumbling at Chris’s straining zipper. Chris closed his eyes and counted very slowly to ten. "Shit, man. When’s the last time you got laid? This thing is a lethal weapon." 

Justin’s hand, that big wonderful hand, came around Chris’s cock and stroked the length of it. Chris threw back his head and groaned, hooking his finger in Justin’s belt loop and tugging weakly. Maybe if he concentrated hard enough, Justin’s pants would slither right off him. 

"J, man, the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. I can’t hold off. I swear, I can’t." 

Justin laughed, pushing Chris onto his back and straddling his hips. "You big whiner." 

Chris closed his eyes, and shook his head, and fought against coming harder than any man had ever before and, if fate was kind, harder than any man ever _would_. This was hell. There was no question in Chris’s mind this was where bad people ended up, forever on the edge of coming. 

Justin lifted off him. When he returned, he was as naked as Chris. There was electric contact between their dicks. Chris thumped his fist against the floor, valiantly fighting to the end. With strength Chris didn’t know he possessed, he grabbed Justin by the hips and flipped him. Instead of sitting on Chris, Justin was on his knees over Chris, his cock lined with Chris’s mouth. 

"Shit," Justin said, sounding awed, "how did you do that?" 

"Desperate measures, man." 

Chris fanned out his hands on the fleshy part of Justin’s sweet, sweet, non-existent ass, spreading him open and snaking out his tongue. Justin yelped then rocked back at him, his own mouth disappearing between Chris’s legs and sealing the tip of Chris’s cock, tonguing the head. 

It was amazing Chris lasted even thirty seconds, having worked himself up into a fury that had translated everything in his head into Japanese. When Chris came, it was the best and the worst he had ever felt. He was still working at Justin, sliding his tongue around, inside. His orgasm sidetracked him for a little bit, but the moment he could, Chris was back at it, licking. 

When Justin came, it was with a startled groan of Chris’s name and a low melodic moan that carried Chris through each pulse of Justin onto his chest, warm and wet, like the enticing pant of Justin’s open mouth when he turned around and slid into Chris’s arms, happily smiling. 

~~~ 

"Stay awake," Justin demanded, knocking his knuckles against Chris’s belly. 

Chris really thought it was a testament to his love for Justin that he was honestly trying to. Nearly every bit of his body demanded its post-coital nap. His cock, which Justin kept palming tenderly, was his only ally. It also helped a lot when Justin started kissing him again, deeply. 

They were a knot of tangled, sweaty limbs by the time the lethargy that had previously crippled Chris in bed left him. Chris kept one hand on Justin’s back, alternating between gripping him at the base of his skull, fingers twisted in his curls, and resting at the small of Justin’s back where all the sweat had seemingly pooled, occasionally dipping down his fingers. 

"You wanna fuck me?" Justin asked, mouth moving against Chris’s jaw and doing things that shouldn’t have even been sexy but were. Chris pulled his fingers tips down Justin’s spine, making him shiver and nip at the scruff Chris’s cheek, keening low in his throat. "Hmm, Chris?" 

"I don’t have anything with me," Chris admitted, dipping his fingers between Justin’s legs against, bumping at the back of his balls and getting a delicious full body shudder in return. 

"Well, we don’t need ..." 

"Yes, we do," Chris said quickly, feeling like a major square. Justin looked fondly bemused, but Chris still thought he was being a total tool. "I trust you, man, I really do, but I’m the one who’s been sexually active since the mid-80's, and you know how I am about rubbers." 

Justin grinned. "I was there for your impromptu sex ed class in Berlin, remember?" 

"Oh, god. I totally forgot about that." Chris laughed, unable to stop his hands from roving over the expanse of Justin’s firm back. Justin didn’t seem to mind. "Man, I didn’t have sex for weeks after that. I apologise for any lasting damage done. I really had the best of intentions." 

"Didn’t learn much, though, did you?" Justin nosed beneath Chris’s ear, his fingers combing over and over through Chris’s hair, his mouth smiling against Chris’s neck. "I have enough stuff with me to start my own harem, man. Let’s just move this party to my room, yeah?" 

"I can’t let you out of this room looking like you do, J. If we leave together, everyone in Japan is gonna know what we’ve been up to. You look well and truly fucked, dude." 

"Not yet, but soon enough. I know all the things you wanna do to me." 

"Cocky little shit, aren’t you?" 

Justin hummed a little, smiling. "Okay. I go first then you follow fifteen minutes later." 

"Keep the door unlocked?" 

"Of course." Justin said, jumping up and pulling his clothes on faster than Chris had ever seen anyone do before. His cock bobbed with each bend and wriggle, fully erect and raring to go. When Justin caught Chris watching, he shimmied his hips and stroked himself thrice, before falling to his knees and putting his mouth warm against Chris’s ear. "Fifteen minutes, no less." 

"Wild horses and all that crap." 

Chris meant it, too. 

~~~ 

Chris waited until the hallway was clear to make his move. His face was all flushed and blotchy, the number one sign that he’d been getting some sex, but that happened when he jerked off, too. He put on enough deodorant to keep a football team smelling like roses, and wore the baggiest pants he’d brought with him to hide his hard on. It was a pretty fucking lousy disguise. 

Big Mike looked up when Chris stepped out, smiling briefly before recovering. Well, it wasn’t like Big Mike hadn’t watched Chris’s back as he tried to get laid by guys before. It was in Big Mike’s contract, actually. He was even kind enough to open the exit door for Chris and walk him down the two flights to Justin’s floor, using his security card to get Chris into the hallway. 

When they were really famous, Chris was going to kick and scream to make sure they bought out the whole damn floor. It was much easier to sneak around without needing help. Chris supposed he could have just used the elevator, but he was on a fucking _mission_ here, thank you. 

What Chris hadn’t counted on was Joey, Lance and JC standing outside Justin’s room, talking in excited whispers. Totally talking about him, Chris knew, from the way they stopped when they saw him. Oh Jesus, Chris thought, straightening his back and lifting his shoulders. 

"Good evening," Chris said politely. 

Joey grinned. "You’ve got a little something on your face, dude." 

"Yeah, man," JC agreed, matching Joey’s grin tenfold, "it looks like you have a fever." 

Lance stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Whatever could you be doing here?" 

"All right, you fucking three stooges, have you laugh, but need I remind you, I have it within my power to mock you all for the rest of your natural lives. Not only that," Chris continued, ignoring their gleeful smiles, "but I have the _will_ to keep my revenge going forever." 

All three of them held up their hands in surrender, still laughing, but Chris supposed it was the best he could do under the circumstances. Chris filed away the plans to have sex all over the buses for later, saving it for when Joey stole his weed or when Lance dropped him during the flip or when JC ... well, when JC was JC, because that was reason enough on the best of days. 

~~~ 

"They caught me on my way down," Justin said apologetically, sitting naked on his bed. 

In the ten steps from the door to Justin, Chris had managed to get everything off but his socks, which Justin removed himself, laughing, when Chris made threats about keeping them on. Everything that had happened in the hall faded into memory, and Chris remembered the mission. 

"You’ve done this before, right?" 

"Oh, yeah, a couple times. Don’t worry about me." Justin ripped the condom open with his teeth then tossed the foil wrapper on the ground. With his tongue between his lips, Justin rolled the condom down Chris’s cock, carefully adjusting it so it fit perfectly. "Okay. Kiss me." 

Chris snapped a quick salute. "Yes, sir." 

"Fucking smart ass," Justin muttered, lowering his mouth to Chris’s and swallowing whatever witty comeback Chris had in his arsenal. It was just as well anyway, Chris figured. 

They kissed again for an eternity and a half, Justin’s tongue pressing against his, slicking into Chris’s mouth and out again, open without being wet and sloppy. Best tongue in the goddamn world, Chris thought, his hands held above his head and his fingers laced with Justin’s. 

When Justin drizzled lube over Chris’s cock and fisted it loosely, spreading it around, Chris nearly came. It was so surprising, how Justin’s mere touch was enough to bring Chris shaking to the edge. No one had ever held that sort of power over him, and Chris was glad that only Justin did, was more than willing to let himself go when shit like that usually terrified him. 

With his hands on Justin’s hips, Chris guided Justin onto him, slowing Justin down when it looked like he was going to do too much, too fast. Justin sighed a little in bliss when Chris was fully inside, clenching around Chris’s dick experimentally, lower lip chewed between his teeth. 

"Fuck," Chris whispered, "you are so damn hot, man. You have no fucking idea what you do to me." 

Justin smiled, his eyes fluttering open, wide and blue. "I think I have some idea, Chris." 

"Probably," Chris admitted, his heart beating erratically inside his chest. 

Justin started moving slowly, lifting up then sliding down as Chris held on. They found the rhythm with a quickness that surprised him when it shouldn’t have. Justin put his hands flat on Chris’s chest, fingers sloping down Chris’s skin with each lift and pushing up with each fall. Chris moved a hand to Justin’s cock and started jacking him, rubbing his thumb over the head. 

"Shit," Justin gasped, throwing back his head as his throat bobbed, "shit, Chris, shit." 

Chris started pulling on Justin’s cock faster, using the slickness from the head to wet the shaft, and Justin’s hips lost complete control on Chris’s cock, grinding down on him faster and faster, dragging Chris inside deeper and deeper. Justin’s fingernails raked over Chris’s chest. 

Justin came first this time, thank god, shouting out so loudly that Chris’s first impulse was to cover Justin’s mouth with his palm. It went on and on until, with one last shudder, Justin went boneless on top of Chris, forcing Chris to take his weight as Justin gasped wetly in his ear. 

"I’m sorry, but did you come? I think I missed it." 

Justin snorted against Chris’s neck. 

"You mind?" 

"Go ahead," Justin said. "You want me any place in particular?" 

"I want to see," Chris admitted sheepishly, lifting his eyebrows so he didn’t have to finish his thought. It was obvious, at least to Justin, who spoke Chris-ese as well as Chris spoke Justin-ese, and Justin turned around without letting Chris’s cock slip out of him. "God, J, that’s _wow_." 

Justin rolled his liquid hips, looking back over his shoulder. "Yeah?" 

"Fuck, yeah." 

Chris watched his cock as Justin lifted almost completely off it, only the very tip of the head still in contact with Justin’s ass, then nearly lost his mind when his dick slipped back inside. The impossible stretch of the ring of muscle, the way Justin opened to take him, the effortless glide of Chris’s cock as it reached in deep, and the unbearably sexy pattern of it all as it repeated. 

"Okay," Chris said feebly, slapping at Justin’s ass, "turn around again." 

"Shit, make up your mind." 

Justin knew as well as Chris did why he asked, though, so Justin did it without further comment, fitting his mouth on Chris’s when Chris begged for it. It was a quick tumble to the end after that, Chris burying himself balls deep in Justin and coming with an embarrassing whimper. 

"I’m never going to survive this," Chris murmured, later, when they were on the cusp of sleep, Justin warm and relaxed in his arms. 

"What?" 

"You," Chris said simply. 

~~~ 

Japan had flown by in a whirlwind, and Chris could honestly say that was he was going to miss it, even though he’d barely seen anything at all. He had all his manga and his anime, a good portion of it freaky cartoon shit, and he’d eaten so much food out of vending machines that a Mars bar in an American one would never look quite as tempting again. And he had Justin, too. 

Chris gathered all his crap and packed quickly, sitting on his suitcase to zip it up. He tucked the plastic fork into the front pocket, keeping it to show the grandkids. Chris’s skin was still tingling and warm from having Justin sleep on him all right. His cock felt well exercised. 

JC was in the hall when Chris dragged his baggage into the hall, wrestling with his own monster bag. He made a kissy face at Chris, and Chris gave him the finger. Still, nothing could dampen his good mood. Chris had never felt this wonderful before noon in his whole entire life. 

Even Lance, with his impatient grunts of aggravation as everyone showed up late, couldn’t bring Chris down. Chris merely wrestled him to the ground and tickled him, with Joey and Justin’s help of course, until he was smiling, too. In a corner, Chris and Justin kissed until Todd cleared his throat and casually mentioned that the van had arrived about five minutes ago. 

"You gotta stop smiling, dude," Joey said on their way to their final Japanese appearance, a radio show that wasn’t going to last more than an hour, "or you and J need to figure out some sorta custody agreement on it, because everyone’s gonna know what you two have been doing." 

"Dude, if you knew why I was smiling, you wouldn’t be asking impossible things." 

"Amen," Justin said from the back of the van, and Chris laughed.


End file.
